


Heart Shaped Bed

by qveenclown



Category: Blur (Band), British Pop, Britpop - Fandom, Musicians - Fandom
Genre: Character studies, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Multi, Psychological Drama, Schizophrenia, Sex Work, Sex workers, Sexual Content, Sexual Themes, psychopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qveenclown/pseuds/qveenclown
Summary: A pair of roommates just trying to survive; bleach blonde anarchy; “men who eat snails never really grew up did they?.”





	Heart Shaped Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I tell myself I don’t actually ship any of these people but deep down I probably do–anyway this’ll be more of a character drama/slice of life kind of thing that I’ll update occasionally. Also I’d like to mention that all of these events are fictional and in no way reflect my feelings about anyone in this fic as well as people who may suffer from addiction of any kind or psychpathy and anything else mentioned in this hellfest. With that being said; obviously everyone is definitely ooc for the most part, there will be drug abuse, homophobia, confusing audio and visual hallucination moments and uhh I should note that I’m American (not lesbian 👁👄👁) so ya boi finna hit up all her british friends for help with this shit. yEet enjoy

He’d lost the game which was extremely rare for him, Graham realized his mistake—he’d played his cards too boldly and thus: he lost. And the worst part was that he set the game up in the first place, rigged it just right. He always made sure there’d be no chance he’d lose and yet here he was crying on the floor of some disgusting bathroom stall in some disgusting club.

Part of him was mad—offended even that nobody knocked on door to check if he was okay, where was a knight in shining armor to come sweep you off your feet when you needed them? The other part of him wanted to rot, decompose into the earth so that nobody could see him like this or hurt him like **He** did.

Graham stopped his wailing and stood up, he forced himself to, he decided he wasn't going to care anymore. **His** voice kept talking. Over and over again the words played in his brain like a broken record. All Graham could feel was rage after crying his heart out. He threw the door of the bathroom stall open startling a few people sucking face or cock in the cramped bathroom. Shambling over to the sink the brunette stared at his reflection, **He** saidGrahamwasinsane? "I'm not crazy..." Graham whispered to himself. He was flooded with hushed coos in an attempt to comfort the man.

 **He** said Graham was batshit, that he was a user, that part may be true but Graham wasn't mad. All of his marbles were kept right in his back pocket and he knew his head was on tight enough. At least he hoped it was, he just wanted to be normal. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me." He turned on the water to wash his face, his eyes were red but he didn't worry about anybody questioning him seeing as everyone elses eyes were bloodshot as well. “I’m just like everyone else out there.” Graham was met with reassurance.

* * *

Graham needed a rebound, something new, maybe a woman this time? Some rich milf who’ll bend over backwards at his whim or pay for whatever he so much as glanced at? Nah, milfs were too high maintenance, they need too much attention. He pondered his next catch while scanning the crowd from the uncomfortable leather sofa he was slumped upon.

The loud, lifeless noise that barely passed for music made it hard to focus on finding a new toy, groaning when the whispering and stupid music got even louder and the other patrons seemed to get even closer Graham took a long swallow of his drink. Graham felt the weight of the sofa shift as someone sat next to him, he paid them no mind for a good few seconds before they tried getting his attention. 

“What?” Graham yelled over the music, the flashing lights reflecting off of his glasses as he strained to look up at the man. The man was big, much taller and buffer then he was. Graham no longer felt intimidation, he no longer cared enough to.

”I said ‘Hey little boy!’” Graham felt a part of himself die hearing those words, he clenched his jaw coughing out a giggle before flashing the much bigger man a false smile.

”Hi! You sound funny?” Graham of course knew why, he was an American, he hated Americans.

”Here on spring break, I’m from the states!” Pulling a face like he was listening the brunette nodded as though he actually cared.

”That’s so cool! I’d love to visit someday!”

”Mmhm—You like to wear skirts baby boy?” He leaned down to ask Graham. For a split second Graham’s eyes filled with rage; rage before shame. There was a buzzing in the back if his brain.

”For the right price I will... _dear_.”

* * *

He would’ve liked to see this, Dave, not _he_ as in **Him**. “Why’d I clarify that?” The buzzing never stopped the whole way back to the yanks hotel room—it would get louder when he touched Graham but it didn’t stop.

Dave would’ve laughed at Graham right now, called him a ‘fairy’ then laugh some more and eventually he’d find a way to get Graham out of the shit storm he was in but for that brief moment, Dave would’ve been happy to watch Graham suffer. He would’ve ignored the nonsense question Graham muttered.

Graham looked over his reflection once more; his eyes were less red and were no longer obscured by his thick glasses. He didn’t ask why, how or who the men got the sickeningly innocent looking school girl uniform from but it bothered him to know they had to get it from somewhere. His fluffy hair was put up into two small pigtails atop his head; seeing them made him want to hang himself.

Possibly the most humiliating part about this outfit was the bra that the swine had given him to wear, he was nowhere near even an A cup let alone the size they had with them. He had to resort to stuffing the thing with as much tissue as it could hold. He hated this—it was demeaning. Graham took a deep breath and turned to the bathroom door.

Suddenly his heart started to pound, the lights got brighter, the buzzing got louder as his hand reached for the door knob, his palms started to sweat despite the cold flash that washed over him. He felt so chilled but his body only sweat more, it was a sensory overload. He couldn’t stop now, he was already here.

”Just get it over with. Come on you’ve got this!” Soft beeping slowly overpowering the buzzing soothing his brain. The beeping alwasy soothed Graham. Graham swallowed his pride, all he could hear was the beeping.

* * *

Something about watching yourself getting completely wrecked by three mindless roidapes was really eye opening. Graham couldn’t help but feel sick with shame looking on from above in his out of body state, he understood now that the men who used his body as they pleased were nothing more then meat. Graham was meat too. Everyone was meat. Walking meat—lifeless and easily malleable. But Graham was tougher, he wasn’t a fatty kobe or a flaky fillet; Graham was the thick skin of a shark or something equally as cool.

Through brief moments of clarity, when Graham could hear, and the beeping stopped as though it needed a break, he could hear insults being thrown at him. Calling him ‘tranny’ or making jokes at his expense with each other. Graham couldn’t understand the needless and hostile treatment because at the end of the day— _they_ had paid Graham to dress up as a child for _their_ sick fantasy. Hell they even coughed up an “extra couple of hundreds pretty please?”

But it didn’t matter; they were meat, Graham was meat and, well, he was going to cum soon anyway.

* * *

It didn’t bother Graham to walk down the streets alone, he loved being alone actually. He loved to walk too, he could no longer hear the buzzing or the beeping or anything for that matter, he was careful to avoid glass and rocks on the sidewalks as his shoes hung around his neck. The worn out snickers tied together by the just as worn out laces, Graham was far too exhausting to even put them on.

His stockings had so many runs in them Graham might as well have taken them off but all he wanted to do was get back to his shity apartment and curl up in bed. 

Dave opened the door for Graham who tossed his shoes aside as he shambled his way in heading straight for the couch, he flopped down hoping Dave wouldn’t ask him any questions. Of course Graham was back in his normal clothes, aside from the stockings and the lone, lopsided pigtail left in his hair.

”Good to see you’re still living Gra.” Graham only pushed his face farther into the cushion.

”Fuh off chun.” Dave laughed as he lifted Graham’s feet and sat down letting Graham’s legs rest in his lap.

”Someone’s angry about something. _You_ _can_ _talk_ _to_ _me_ _y’_ _know_.” Dave mocked, he knew how much Graham hated therapists, he kicked Dave in the thigh for his comment which caused the man to laugh yet again.

”You’re such a pain!” Graham ripped himself off of the couch and stormed into the bathroom, he was going to shower then he was going to sleep. He’d wake up early afternoon and go out to some cafe or something to kill time then he’ll go back home, go to sleep and go to work the next day.

He had it all planned out, tomorrow he’d waste time, maybe find some poor sap to rope into his next game and try to forget about **Him**. **Him** —God! It was like **He** was haunting Graham. Well...Graham did feel haunted but he wouldn’t worry anymore, he was a new man, a man who decided earlier that night that he’d no longer care about anything anymore.

If **He** thought Graham was crazy then maybe he was but he’d keep his facade up and play his games with anyone willing to join because playing games with people was the only pass time that made Graham actually feel like he was in control of things.

Being in control felt good.


End file.
